


Support Your Local Claiming Center

by Not_You



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Arranged Marriage, D/s universe, Dominant Bottom, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, M/M, Self Confidence Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-05
Updated: 2012-09-05
Packaged: 2017-11-13 15:02:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/504764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_You/pseuds/Not_You
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a kinkmeme prompt, but OP didn't really like it that much, so I won't bother to link.</p><p>Erik is a sub who has quite literally been to the wars.  He's older and more damaged than he thinks anyone wants.  Charles proves him wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Support Your Local Claiming Center

Not many people will try a sub who has seen as much as Erik has. That is this age or bears anything like these scars. The weight of his warning tags shames him where they rest over his heart. Besides the pervasive idea that a decorated veteran can't be a submissive, he has a fucking rainbow around his neck. White for not even playing around before reporting to his local Claiming Center, grey for having been imprisoned, black and red stripe for having been tortured, silver for his pure terror at the idea of medical scenes, the yellow and green stripe that means he can't bear to combine pain and restraint, and black for his terror at more sensory deprivation than a blindfold. He runs a nervous hand over their cool smoothness, taking comfort in them no matter how much they shame him. They're imbued with Emma's power, and she will know in an instant if any of them have been disregarded, and her wrath will be terrible.

She's a Domme herself, and for a little while they had tiptoed around each other, afraid of what their affinity might mean. But even with her inside his head and the temporary Center collar so comforting at his throat, it hadn't happened. Not when he had started crying after the first few obedience exercises and she had just held him for the hour and a half it took to stop. Now he takes a deep breath, and arranges himself properly, knees together, eyes down. His collar and cuffs are soothing, perfectly formed to him and soft on his skin, and the cloak draped over him keeps him warm. He wishes he could see the room, but is also grateful to be hooded and safe.

A certain amount of waiting is always involved, but he's not sure how much more his nerves can stand. He's not sure how long ago Azazel dropped him off, but it feels like forever. He knows better than to go over his failed appointments in his mind, but he can't help it. Of Moira, who had wept at failing him but had recognized that she wasn't up to the heavy task of training someone so badly hurt. Emma herself, that coolness that left him feeling lonely. Angel who had sighed and said, "you're too damn intense for me, daddy-o." It all comes down to the same thing, to his own pathetic neediness and Shaw's fingerprints all over him.

 _Stop that._ It's definitely an order, and his breath catches.

"Yes, sir." He freezes, realizing he doesn't actually have permission to speak.

 _Oh, don't worry about that._ Soft footsteps approach, and circle him. _I've never run a very tight ship. I value a good argument too much._

"Thank you, sir," he whispers.

"I'm going to take this cloak off now, and you'll get a good look at the squalor in which I live. Ready?"

"Yes, sir." No one has ever actually asked him about that before, and had he had never fully realized how much the shock of comparative cold had bothered him when Angel just whipped it off. This time he's expecting it, and shivers as the edges drift along his skin. Without looking up, he still gets a vague impression of overstuffed comfort.

"...Oh." And he barely has time to even begin thinking that that the shocked little sound is about his scars. "Good god they said you were beautiful, but... wow."

"I am glad to please you, sir." And he is, and badly as he wants to see Charles, he keeps his eyes down, quivering a little with mostly-suppressed eagerness and nerves. Footsteps circle him again, but this time he can at least see the feet that make them. He seems to be in street clothes, thank god. Some of Emma's ridiculous white strap confections are enough to take a man out of the moment.

"You are just relentlessly gorgeous. Let me see your eyes."

He looks up and feels his heart hammering in his chest. Charles's eyes are so, so blue, and the gentleness that suffuses his face makes Erik glad he's already on his knees. "Forget the downcast eyes business. These are too lovely not to show me." He strokes Erik's hair, and smiles when Erik leans into the touch, trembling. "Such a sweet boy. I know you'll be good for me."

"Yes, sir," he whispers, and then whimpers when Charles brings a lead out of his pocket and clips it to the ring on his collar. He can't help a quiet moan as Charles leads him onto all fours with a gentle tug, and flushes all over, limbs already feeling heavy and warm.

Charles chuckles and runs his hand down Erik's back, making him shudder. "So pretty. I meant to be more civilized about this, but I really must take you to bed."

"Please," Erik whines, and Charles leads him over the ancient and probably priceless carpets and into his bedroom.

"Hop up." He sounds a bit breathless, and Erik shivers as he crawls onto the bed. He's not positive he's ready for this, but he wouldn't be here if Emma didn't think he was. Charles smiles softly, and kisses Erik, lazily exploring his mouth for an endless moment before pulling away. "Don't worry, love," Charles says, "We'll go slowly." And they do, Charles warning and asking every step of the way as he puts Erik into incredibly comfortable four-point restraints. He never stops touching him, never once leaves him alone with the feeling of being bound. The cuffs feel like an extension of his Dom's loving hands, and he's able to just whimper and melt into it. Charles touches him everywhere, delightedly cataloging Erik's reactions, purring that he's such a good boy for letting his Dominant hear him, that what he wants right now is Erik's pleasure. Erik whimpers, sobs and begs as he writhes in his bonds, letting Charles into his head, letting him find every touch that makes Erik feel good. Charles avoids Erik's aching cock, wanting this to last.

It does last, and Erik is _wrecked_ by the time Charles straddles him, murmuring soothingly about how he can come soon, that he's being so good. Erik whimpers as Charles uses the tip of his cock to tease himself, then wails as Charles sinks down onto him. Charles groans, and shivers happily. "Oh god, your cock is _perfect_." Erik just whines in response, and melts under Charles, letting Charles use him for his own pleasure and fighting not to come without permission. It seems like an eternity, but then Charles is coming all around him, clenching and squeezing so tightly. Erik writhes and howls, wanting to lick Charles clean, to be a good boy and do anything he wants.

_Come for me. Come for me you beautiful, perfect creature._

Erik screams and comes harder than he ever has in his life. He bucks and shakes and greys out for a little while, drained and zoned out and high. And then Charles is untying him and carefully cleaning them both, wrapping around Erik and holding him tightly, telling him how good and sweet he is, how beautiful in his submission. Erik purrs and cuddles close, nuzzling Charles's chest and incapable of worrying about anything for a long, long time. He doesn't go back to the Claiming Center that night, and the next morning they both know that Charles wants to keep him. Erik will go back for now, and Emma will test them both, but a bond is a bond, and Erik can feel theirs wrapped warm and comforting around his heart.


End file.
